


Washin'Boose

by kineticallyanywhere



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Friendship, Gen, but barely, the only difference is that fusion is a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 00:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kineticallyanywhere/pseuds/kineticallyanywhere
Summary: If Caboose never wants to be Washin'Boose again, they won't be. Period. That's it.Wash gets caught up in his own thoughts. Caboose is caught up in his own thoughts. They talk about it. It gets super friendship soft





	Washin'Boose

**Author's Note:**

> If you've seen even 2% of my tumblr content you know I like fusion aus and I like Wash and Caboose so here just take it. I actually wrote most of it months ago and finished it recently.

Caboose is comfortable in a way Wash has no idea how to explain.

He thinks he can maybe describe it in the privacy of his own head, but whenever he's asked about it, none of it can form a coherent sentence in his mouth. Words and phrases like 'simplicity', and 'confidence', and 'carelessness' cross his mind, but he's not sure he could get them to sound quite right out loud. It's not that Caboose's thoughts are just _simple,_ it's that things that seemed so complicated before suddenly untangle. It's not that he's suddenly more _confident_ , it's that not nearly as many things seem to require anything like that anymore. It's not that he feels like every thing he does is _careless_ , it's that worries and concerns and notables seem to slide away like jello on a smooth surface. 

He's still himself -- he's still focused, and careful (not that he's full of cares, though there are many of those), and ready for action. But when he's fused with Caboose the tightness in his chest loosens, even though he feels like he's being hugged all over. Not every fusion comes with the feeling of an actual physical embrace with it, but this one definitely does. It's everywhere, like he's been wrapped, full-body, in a blanket, but he doesn't feel trapped at all. He feels like he could run all the way to the sunset and make it there. (They tried it once, it was fun.)

Wash wonders if Caboose feels the same way. 

He wonders if maybe Caboose feels the tension that pulls Wash's shoulders almost every day for the past however-many years. He wonders if Caboose feels the sorrow and the anger and the hurt that hit him out of nowhere sometimes. He wonders, if he does, does Caboose remember any of that after they separate again. 

By the time they're neck-deep in the war on Chorus, Washin'Boose has had a run on the planet multiple times. There was right after the crash, when the debris needed to be cleared. There was that accidental time after the initial mess with Freckles got sorted. There was after the cease-fire -- the first time the Chorus soldiers were introduced to him -- and a few other times since then for training reasons. 

Every time, he felt the same. Every time, Washin'Boose felt safe and ready and strong. 

And every time, Wash wondered if Caboose would ever really be up for it again. 

Fusion here was different than it was in the Project. None of the sim guys fused by motivations of necessity, even when survival was a motivating factor. The main drive behind it was always some indescribable _together_ feeling. No one tells them to fuse -- hell, most of the time someone is telling them not to. 

(Secretly, Wash is pretty sure that's why Carolina hasn't fused with any of them yet. She's still waiting for someone's permission to really get that close, and if there's one thing the guys don't do, it's asking for things.)

If Caboose never wants to be Washin'Boose again, they won't be. Period. That's it. 

If Wash gets too hung up on the fear -- fear of what he might leave behind -- then they won't be able to fuse. Period. That's it. Caboose just doesn't _do_ fear. Not that he's incapable of being scared, but that deep, long-lasting, permanent fear? It's just not there. It slides right off of him. Wash can feel it, whenever Washin'Boose runs into some new threat. He gets startled, he analyzes, he maybe even gets freaked out. When it's over, though? That's it. 

Washin'Boose doesn't get nightmares. Because he's strong. He's ready. He's safe. 

Wash is there, after all. After all, Caboose is there. 

But what if Caboose _isn't--_

Caboose is there. Two short minutes _after_ morning training is dismissed. Caboose is lucky Carolina has already sped off for a meeting. Wash would call out his presence directly, but he's in the middle of fixing a jam in one of the private's rifles. He shouldn't be zoning out this much, already, he ought to be making a teaching experience out of this. 

Wash returns full focus to the rifle, starts to point out what jammed, and asks the private if he knows the names of each piece and what their function is. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he's watching Caboose scoot around the edge of the gun range. He's got that uncomfortable face on, where he looks at the ceiling as if because he can't see anyone else, no one else will be able to see him. Unfortunately for Caboose, he's about a head taller than anyone in the room that isn't Smith, so the crew of blue and red squad members definitely see him. Lucky for Caboose, they've all learned that Caboose is not a superior officer that requires attention. 

Caboose gets confused when people try to salute him. Last time, he ended up thinking there was a bee in the mess hall and _that_ had turned into an interesting day.

By the time Caboose makes it around to Wash's end of the room, most of the soldiers have cleared out. Wash finishes with the private's rifle, reminds them to take better care cleaning it, and sends them on their way. Then it's just Wash and Caboose. Caboose rocks on his heels and fidgets his pointer fingers around each other. Wash crosses his arms over his chest and waits. Sometimes when Caboose doesn't show up for practice he doesn't realize it, or he doesn't realize that whatever he skipped practice for wasn't as important. Caboose looks suitably guilty this time, so Wash just waits. 

"Hello, Agent Washington," Caboose eventually says in his "quiet" voice. 

"Hello, Caboose," Wash responds evenly. 

"I was not on time for shooting practice," Caboose explains. 

"No, you weren't," Wash agrees. 

Caboose looks at his fingers, which he taps together rapidly.

"Do you want to tell me where you were?" Wash prods. He doesn't ask why. That will come later.

"Avoiding Tucker," Caboose says. 

"Tucker wasn't here this morning," Wash points out. "He left for a recon run after breakfast."

"Yeah... someone took one of his orange slices."

Wash doesn't need to ask who did that. Did Tucker promise some kind of retribution that spooked Caboose into hiding? 

"Are you afraid of Tucker?" Wash dares to ask.

Caboose's genuine offense is so intimidate it's almost comical. He scoffs no less than three times before saying, "No! P _shh!_ What does that have to do with fruit theft?"

Wash simulates, in his head, the line of conversation that might follow by going for the explanation, and axes that before it starts. Instead he says, "You brought it up."

"Well that's because Tucker got mad at me." Quickly he adds, " _For no reason_."

Wash is _so sure_ that's true.

"What did he say when he got mad?" Wash asks.

"Oh, uh, the usual. That Grif is f _at..._ that Simmons is a se _lf serving dog waffle_..." (douche-nozzle, Wash translates) that I'm a _Prague on Socrates_ ," (plague on society) "and that he doesn't know why--" 

Caboose clams up suddenly. 

"What doesn't he know, Caboose?" Wash prompts.

"It's, uh -- it's like -- y'know the way people? Hm." Caboose scratches at his hair, and won't look at Wash. He keeps mumbling, mostly to himself. "Uh... No, that doesn't make sense. It's gotta be -- he's just -- _stupid_ \--"

Now Wash is concerned. "Caboose?" he asks again, trying to get his attention.

Caboose deflates like a balloon, raspberry exhale and all. Wash takes this as a sign that Caboose has run out of words. It's a rare occasion when the switch flips in Caboose's brain that decides no matter how many words he throws at the problem it's not going to fix his point, but it happens. Caboose just has trouble getting the words in his head out of his mouth, sometimes. A lot of times. Most of the time it ends in Caboose walking off and moaning his depression at the sky, but right now he seems intent on staying where he is. 

There's a way to get some things across without words, though. Not perfectly, and certainly not all of it, if it doesn't want to be shared. Maybe it would be a first step, though. An icebreaker. Washin'Boose is great at icebreakers.

"Do you want to...?" Wash holds out his hand.

When Caboose hesitates, Wash tries not to let the rock form at the back of his throat. 

(That's it. Period. It's over.)

"Well, maybe in a bigger room," Wash says for lack of any other explanation for the pause that Wash's mind is rolling over. The gun range isn't exactly a spacious room, vertically speaking, and Washin'Boose is not short by any stretch of the imagination. None of Caboose's fusions are. 

The next half a second feels like an eternity -- _this is it, this is where Caboose says he's done, where he's had enough, and honestly that's fair given everything that_ \--

Then Caboose asks, "Do you want to?"

_Do_ I _want to?_ Wash can only say, "What?"

"Wash, you -- uh -- well you're all organized, and you think in proper circles, and you work so hard on your cool guy reputation." Conspiratorially he adds, " _Even though you are a softie_." 

Wash can only blink. 

" _And I will not tell anyone_ ," Caboose continues. "And I just -- I know, I just. I am much better at socializing than you, and when we do things together I forget to make sure you're okay with that."

Wash stares.

Caboose wrings his hands with force Wash is sure could bend a pistol but doesn't even pop his knuckles. "And I can't... Tucker didn't do that. And Grif and Simmons argue about Grimmons a lot, cause they say a lot that he doesn't always show up on purpose. Simmons says how he doesn't like being so lazy, and Grif doesn't like being so butt-like--" (anal, Wash translates) "--so -- I guess -- if you don't want to be Washin'Boose, we don't have to." With sudden ferocity, he adds, "Not that I think Tucker's _right_! Because that's just. Not how things work." More quietly again, he says, "But I know you feel sad sometimes, and if doing stuff with me makes you sad, we can not do that anymore."

Wash feels no less than seven different things. Some of them are surprise, and some of them are sad, and at least one of them is happy. But now Wash is the one who doesn't know what to say, so he says, "What? No."

Caboose looks forlornly down at his toes. "Okay..."

" _No!_ That's not what I mean by no, I mean--" Wash takes a deep breath. "Okay. Back up."

Caboose looks at him, mouth pulled to the side. He takes a step back.

"I didn't mean _literally_ , but -- okay."

Wash runs his hands over his face and _thinks_ for a second. Gives himself a sitrep. 

Tucker said something mean, probably about anyone wanting to fuse with Caboose, probably because Tucker can, on occasion, be a jealous shit. Caboose knows that Wash gets sad sometimes, and he must have felt it while they were fused -- which is _the thing_ that Wash _doesn't_ want to happen, but that's getting off track -- and now he thinks that Wash is sad because he doesn't like fusing with Caboose; because he hears Grif and Simmons bicker about Grimmons (which is definitely _not_ a guy who shows up on accident _nearly_ as much as Grif and Simmons pretend he does) and he thinks that Washin'Boose pushes Wash socially and -- wow. Okay. He's got this.

Wash finally says, "I'm not sad because of you, Caboose."

Caboose hums. "You have a lot of things to be sad about," he admits.

It's a bizarre and morbid thing for Wash to say, "Exactly!" about in a positive way, but he does. He also says, "I'd... I'd actually thought maybe _you_ wouldn't want to."

Caboose blinks down at him. "I don't understand."

"I mean, fusion blends our consciousness together," Wash says defensively. Then, returning to smaller words, continues, "Our minds. I know my head is a little--"

"What? Oh." Caboose scoffs. "Come _on_ , Wash. You're not _that_ special." 

Hearing _that_ sends Wash's emotions in six _new_ directions that his brain kind of short circuits. Now he kind of wants to scream, because _that. That is the thing he's so hung up on. That_ is what he doesn't want to lose. He doesn't have a problem with being a special agent, with being Washington, with learning how to lead. 

But years ago -- _eons_ ago -- he was just another weird guy in a big group of people. No inherent talent, no selected status, no asterisk next to his name listing everything that's supposed to make him different. 

Sometimes Agent Washington just wants to be a person again. 

There's a laundry list of reasons that that just isn't possible. But then _Caboose--_

"My brain likes to do straight lines, but Washin'Boose likes to do some curly qs along the way, and, y'know, that's not such a bad thing to do. Y'know, sometimes. For a change of pace. Mix it up a bit, see how the other side lives." Caboose moves his hands around a lot as he talks towards the ceiling.

To the floor, he continues, "And there's uh… not really anyone else who's really up for how _I_ think?" With confidence, he amends, "And that's just cause most people haven't caught on, yet, that they're the ones doing it wrong. Andersmith gets it. But maybe a little too much? I just, uh…" 

In a small voice, he admits, "So I guess you -- you and Church -- are a little bit special? To me? Uhm. Yeah." Like a decision, he finishes. "Yeah. So if not making Wash'Boose will keep your feelings safe, we don't have to do that."

Wash frantically mutes his mic to make a pathetic screeching noise through his teeth and still maintain a stoic exterior. He really loves his helmet. He unmutes his mic and then doesn't know what to do with his hands. 

This is a sincere moment, he should do something meaningful. So Caboose knows how important this is. Maybe Caboose will call him dramatic for it later, but if it got through to the other person then the drama is _worth it._

Wash's hands end up on Caboose's shoulders somehow. Crap, now he has to say something. What is he supposed to say? 

"Caboose?"

"Mm?"

"Washin'Boose makes my feelings feel… _so_ safe."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Wash holds out his hand. "Can I prove it to you?" 

Caboose looks up at the ceiling again, but this time he's actually looking at the ceiling. It's just a few inches above his head. "Maybe not in here."

"Oh. Right."

"But yes."

\--- 

Washin'Boose blinks awake. He's in the underground courtyard, the one with the facilities set up like enemy bases, and it's just him here. It will be for at least another hour. 

Wash is still worried about something. He doesn't have a memory to put to the feeling, because the lack of memory is the feeling. Or, rather, the reason for the feeling.

It makes Washin'Boose's head buzz.

Caboose remembers waking up after sleeping for a few days and not knowing who Church was.

Nothing like that could possibly happen right now. The buzzing slips away.

Washin'Boose wonders, if he can climb to the top of the practice facility, if he can make the jump into the rafters. It sounds silly and fun -- but also knowing and stretching their limits could he vital in a mission scenario -- and the view up there must be _awesome_. 

Maybe he'll fall off, but he's sturdy. He can always try again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just... I like friendship


End file.
